


The Road to Nowhere

by LovelyLessie



Series: No Past or Future Here [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Family, Gen, Hawke Has A Twin, Introspection, Retelling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-27
Updated: 2017-05-29
Packaged: 2018-11-05 17:06:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11017776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovelyLessie/pseuds/LovelyLessie
Summary: In the wake of the Battle of Ostagar and the onset of the darkspawn horde, the Hawke family flees Lothering for the unknown in the slim hopes of escaping the Blight.





	1. Chapter 1

It’s nearly nightfall when they stagger over the hill together and see the village laid out below them, lamps lit in the windows, long shadows stretching across the fields.

“Carver,” Marian says, and tugs on his arm. “Look.”

He lifts his head slowly, dazed, and his mouth drops open. “Praise the Maker,” he manages weakly, leaning against her. “We _made_ it.”

Marian nods and swallows hard. In the dim light she can make out the house, on the outskirts of the village, where her family is waiting for them to return. She thinks of a chair to sit in, a hot meal, a dry blanket, and she’s nearly overcome with relief; she wants to laugh, or perhaps cry.

She does neither, just pulls herself up and quickens her pace. “Come on,” she says, pulling Carver along with her. “We’re almost there, and then we can rest.”

He leans heavy on her shoulders as they make their way down the hill to the road, to the lane under the trees that winds under the bridge and past the village chantry. Lothering is still and hushed; it feels almost as if the chaos that’s followed them for days now hasn’t reached the village yet, though there’s evidence along the outskirts of fighting and blighted bloodshed. Carver lets a breath out audibly through his teeth, one foot dragging across the cobblestones as he limps along beside Marian.

Beyond the tavern and the shop, beyond the collection of crooked little houses that form the heart of the village, beyond the millhouse and old Barlin’s place at the edge of the fields, the road winds up towards home, and she can see faint flickering light inside. Guilt creeps up through her heart and into her throat, making her draw into herself as she thinks of her mother, kneeling before the candles in the windows, hands clasped in prayer.

In silence they climb up to the door, and Marian hesitates. She wants to rush inside into the light and warmth and comfort of the house she almost came to think of as home, but something makes her pause. Instead, she raises her fist and pounds heavily on the door, a breath caught in her chest.

A long moment passes before the door opens a crack and her mother’s face appears, pale and drawn, on the other side. “Marian?” she asks, her eyes widening. Before Marian can answer, she throws the door open and rushes out to meet them. “Marian - _Carver -_ you’re alright - praise Andraste, you’re both alright!”

“Shit,” Carver hisses as she throws her arms around him, and she draws back, her face lined with worry.

“You’re injured,” she says, horrified, and grabs them both by the wrists to pull them inside. “Both of you sit _down,_ let me look at you - “

The dog greets them the moment they’re through the door, barking loudly and bounding around their feet. “Yes,” Marian assures him as Leandra drags them both into the kitchen. “Yes, we’re home, we’re okay.”

“Mother?” Bethany calls from down the hall. “What’s going on? Who - ?” Her face appears around the corner, and she breaks off suddenly as she sees them. “ _Carver!”_ she shrieks, her voice breaking, and fairly flings herself across the room towards where he’s sitting.

“No, _don’t,”_ he says, too late, as she buries her face in his shoulder.

From down the hall Marian hears footsteps pounding across the floor, and Garrett bursts into the room, his hair wild and his eyes frantic. “Where’s - “ he begins, and then sees her. “Marian!”

“Careful!” she cries as he runs over, but he listens as well as ever; she grimaces as his tight embrace sends pain shooting up her sides. Either he doesn’t hear her catch her breath, or he can’t bring himself to care; he pulls her up against his chest and it’s a long few moments before he lets go.

“We heard things,” Bethany says, her eyes very bright. “Men came through - they said the king was dead - the army slaughtered - “

“I thought you were never coming home!” Leandra cries over her, and sobs. “Thank the Maker you’re both alive, I thought I must have lost you - “

“What were you _thinking,_ you blighted reckless idiot?” Garrett asks, shaking Marian’s shoulder. “Running off on us all like that, could have both of you gotten yourselves killed - “

“We’re home now,” Marian says, as loudly as she can manage so they can hear her over the dog barking at her feet. “We’re both alright, we made it home, I’m sorry we worried you - “

“How bad are your injuries?” Leandra presses, wringing her hands together. “Oh, tell me you weren’t too close to those horrible beasts - “

“What happened at Ostagar?” Bethany demands, leaning on the table. “Is it true the king is dead? We heard there were _darkspawn_ just south, but I don’t know if anyone’s really _seen - “_

“I’m so glad you’re both _safe -_ “

“Aren’t you supposed to be the smart and responsible one - “

Everyone is talking all at once, and it’s all too much for Marian, who closes her eyes and presses the heels of her hands against them. She’s hardly stopped moving since Ostagar, and she’s kept running with a brave face so far, but suddenly now that she’s home the weight of days on her feet and the true pain of her injuries are catching up with her. Every part of her body hurts, and there’s a weariness settling into her that’s heavy and dark as stone.

In a daze she sits surrounded by her anxious family while her mother pushes bread and cheese in front of her, while Bethany presses her with questions. Garrett is uncharacteristically quiet, chiming in only occasionally with a lighthearted comment trying weakly to mask his concern.

“You must be exhausted,” he says after she and Carver both have eaten and been fussed over. “Mother, surely you can take pity on the poor souls and let them rest?”

“Of course,” Leandra says, straightening, though she looks no less worried as she glances between Marian and Carver. “The two of you _must_ get into bed and recover as much strength as you can.”

Marian does not miss the meaningful glances both Bethany and Garrett cast towards her at that, but she is too utterly spent to muster the energy to ask why. Instead she lets Garrett pull her to her feet and leans against his side as he guides her down the hall to their room.


	2. Chapter 2

In the morning the darkspawn reach Lothering.

Marian feels stronger but little refreshed when she wakes and hears fighting not far away. Rolling quickly to her feet, she pulls her jerkin on over her shift and grabs her bow. Her ankle throbs as she pulls on her boots, but there’s no time to be concerned with that; she bites her lip and ignores the pain as she runs out of the house. The sky is grey and smoke-tainted, and she thinks she smells burning nearby.

They’re by the highway, perhaps half a dozen of them, faced off by a scant handful of men and women - a couple of soldiers, she thinks, though she doesn’t recognize them, and a hunter she knows by face but not by name. She takes a stance with a clear shot at the ’spawn and readies her bow, drawing back to loose an arrow and drive it through a hurlock’s head. From a hundred feet she fires on each of them, if not to kill them to weaken and distract them so the others can.

“Is everyone alright?” she calls as she approaches, once the ‘spawn are all laying on the ground. “All still standing?”

“There’s no escaping them,” says one of the soldiers, a dark woman perhaps a few years older than her. “Maker - it’s the end of the bloody world.”

“Don’t give up,” Marian says grimly. “Is anyone injured? I’m no healer, but I know a bit to treat most minor wounds.”

“We can’t fight against them,” the hunter says. “There’s no one left to defend this place - Templars all gone, what soldiers survived mostly taking flight to Denerim by now…”

“Any man or woman who can hold a blade or draw a bow can help fend off the darkspawn,” she insists.

“They don’t retreat,” argues the soldier. “They don’t tire, they know no fear or pain - a handful of us can’t keep them off for long.”

“No,” Marian agrees, “but there’s people here who can’t fight. Farmers, craftspeople, children - people who need time to get away. A handful of us can give them that - but not if any able fighter gives up now.”

People look nervously at each other, unsure.

“If you can’t fight,” she says coldly, “then help get people out of the village. The darkspawn _are_ coming, there’s no one left to stop them, and they’ll overtake Lothering, but the people - your people, _your_ friends and families - can still make it away before the horde arrives in force.”

“We can keep watch at the southern side,” says one of the soldiers. “And along the road, we’ll see them coming. Fight off the scouts and smaller groups.”

“Good,” Marian says. “I’ll see if my brother is strong enough to fight - you, serah, would you help find anyone else with a weapon? The rest tell to go, and run as fast as they can away.”

“There’s not many of us left,” the hunter says, “but I’ll see who I can find.”

Marian runs back to the house as quickly as she can and throws open the door to find Carver already lacing up his boots. “What’s happening?” he asks, his head snapping up. “I thought I heard fighting -“

“Yes,” she says breathlessly. “The ‘spawn are coming. The horde will be here soon - I’m going to scout for signs of them. There’s not many people left who can fight, are you able - “

“I’ll go,” he says before she can finish. “We’ll hold them back as long as we can.”

“Be careful,” she says, and rests a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t do anything stupid while I’ve got my back turned.”

He gives her a grim smile and nods. “I can watch my own back. But thanks.”

She turns to go again, her bow in her hand, and heads for the mill. It’s atop the highest point in Lothering, and she knows how to climb it; if she gets up to the top she should be able to see how close the darkspawn are.

At its base she straps her bow across her back again and pulls at the vines climbing up it to test their strength. She’s climbed up to the top of the mill dozens of times, but she’s never had to do it with a sprained ankle or a dislocated shoulder. Clenching her jaw, she buries both hands in the ivy and pulls herself off the ground. Careful to put her weight mostly on her uninjured leg, she braces herself against the wall and hoists herself up, hand over hand, clambering up her usual handholds until she reaches the roof.

She’s not as nimble now as she usually is, and it takes her a few extra minutes, but she hauls herself onto the top of the mill tower, behind the blades. Getting heavily to her feet, she looks around, and feels her blood go cold.

Not far beyond the ridge that shelters the town, she sees them moving like a swarm of insects - or maybe rats - approaching up the road with flames flickering behind them, smoke billowing up from burning dry grass and trees. And on either side, along the channel of the river and amidst the footpaths between the hills, scattered shapes move among land already grey with ash.

“Oh, Maker,” she whispers to herself, shaking, her eyes burning from the smoke on the wind. They’re already out of time. It’s too late.

She has to warn everyone left. Maybe if they go now, some of them might make it - north to Denerim, perhaps, or east towards the hinterlands. Quickly and a little carelessly she scrambles back down, biting her tongue against the pain shooting up her shoulder and leg. Limping only a little, she runs up the road and throws open the door to Barlin’s tavern.

“The darkspawn are coming,” she shouts. “The body of the horde - they’ll be here soon, Lothering will be overrun within the hour. Everyone needs to _go._ ”

There’s a moment of dead silence before the tavern bursts into a clamor of chaos. She doesn’t stay to answer questions, there’s no time for that. She’ll need to make sure her family is ready to run, and then join Carver trying to hold the ‘spawn off.

She rushes up the hill to the house and stumbles inside. “Mother,” she gasps, “you have to leave now. Carver and I are going to try to hold off the darkspawn, but pack what you can and get out of Lothering with Beth and Garrett before they get here.”

“If you think I’m leaving without you - “ Garrett begins.

“There’s no time!” she shouts. “They’ll kill everyone who doesn’t run now.”

“No,” says her mother, folding her arms, and fixes Marian with a piercing look. “I will not leave Lothering without you _and_ Carver.”

“You may never leave Lothering at all if you don’t!” Marian cries desperately, and looks to Bethany. “Beth, please, make her see sense - “

“I’ve waited a week here with darkspawn nearly knocking at our door!” Leandra says. “We waited for you to come _home!_ No one’s leaving without _all_ of us together, and if that means the darkspawn kill us all -“

“We won’t make it without you,” Bethany pleads. “You have to come with us. We _need_ you.”

Marian looks at her, despairing. She has to do what she can to get everyone out of the village she can, but she can’t just leave her family to fend for themselves. She has faith in her siblings, but she’s always been the one to look out for them - she’s the oldest, and the most responsible, and it’s fallen to her to keep the family together since Father died. She can’t let them be separated _now,_ when Ferelden is falling quickly into chaos around them. If any of them split up, they might never find each other again.

“Alright,” she says finally. “I’m going to buy time. Get anything you’re bringing with you - as soon as I come back with Carver, we need to go.”


End file.
